Sourdough Creek (2 page)

Klem reared back, raising a doubled fist, his eyes filled with rage. “Tell me where Cassie is, you little skunk!”

Gunshots rang out and bullets kicked up dirt around. Clasping her eyes closed, Cassie prepared to meet her maker. Klem’s brother Bristol must have shown up for the party.

“Fun’s over,” a deep voice called out. “Get off him.”

At the sound of the shots, Klem had collapsed onto her in a shocking show of cowardice. A moan gurgled from his throat. “I’m hit,” he shrieked, looking at his hands in disbelief. “I’m bleeding, I’m bleeding.”

Cassie tried to extract herself from under his heavy body, but was pinned. “Stop your sniveling.” She gasped for air. “That’s my blood on your hands, not yours.”

Klem crawled to his knees and stood, wiping dirt and debris from his clothes. He eyed the stranger as he approached.

“What the devil is going on here?” the man asked through clenched teeth. He dropped his reins and left his horse standing as he approached. Offering Cassie his hand, he pulled her to her feet.

Klem was backing away when the man turned on him. Grasping him by the front of his shirt, he yanked Klem up close to his face.

“Never could abide bullies like you.” He motioned with his head toward Cassie. “That boy weighs less than a bantam.”

Suddenly, Klem took an awkward swing at the cowboy, who easily caught his arm and twisted it around his back, shoving it upward. Then the man pushed Klem away with such force he fell to his knees in a puff of dust, pitching forward and landing flat on his face. He came up spitting dirt from his mouth.

“You ought to mind your own business, mister,” Klem mumbled. He climbed to his feet.

“Really?”

The one word, delivered with such controlled fury, sent shivers down Cassie’s spine and she took a tiny step back, giving him space. Time stood still as he enforced his own patience. Then, with measured movement, he rolled up the sleeves of his white broadcloth shirt and stood with his fists tensed at his sides.

“What I
ought
to do,” the stranger replied, “is give you a taste of what you were about to give this young boy. How would you like to take on somebody
my
size?”

Cassie couldn’t help but hope this tall newcomer would make good on his offer.
Yes, beat Klem to a pulp
!
Make him beg for mercy
! The warm blood flowing from her nose went forgotten. Inwardly she cheered. Finally, someone strong enough to stand up to Klem!

Her nemesis shrank before her eyes. His shoulders drooped and he looked everywhere but at the man. He was a whipped dog getting ready to slink away from his master.

“Well?”

“Nah.” Klem shook his head.

“Then apologize.”

Klem’s face flamed.

“Do it or take the consequences.” The stranger took off his hat and handed it to her.

“I apologize.”

As soon as the words were out the coward turned and stormed down the boardwalk, around the corner and out of sight.

Now Cassie was the object of the stranger’s intense brown eyes. By the way he was looking at her she thought for sure he’d ask why a girl was masquerading around as a boy. Earlier, when she’d confronted Klem on the porch of the boarding house, she’d been shocked that he’d fallen for her ruse. He and his brother, Bristol, knew her and Josephine as they all lived in the same town. Just went to show how stupid he was.

He didn’t ask, though. Instead, he retrieved his hat from her hands and refastened his shirt cuffs. He looked embarrassed.

“This happen a lot?”

Stung, Cassie squared her shoulders. “No.” She swiped at her bloody nose with the back of her hand.

“You should get cleaned up. Where do you live?”

Cassie hitched her head toward the boarding house and made her way to the steps. When she lifted her foot a sharp pain sliced through her side and she gasped.

Instantly, the cowboy was there, gingerly placing her right arm over his shoulder and snaking his left carefully around her middle. When their bodies connected, confusion marked his face for a moment. She turned away quickly as she felt her face go hot. Still, he held her steady as they climbed the stairs and she fumbled with the key in the lock.

Chapter Three

J
osephine met Cassie at the door, tears running down her cheeks. She shook her fist in the air. “I’ll beat Klem Sherman to a pulp! He’s a
no
good, lily-livered—”

“Joey!” Cassie scolded. “Be quiet. I’m not hurt much.” She wiped her nose again. “It looks worse than it is.”

“Why, if he came back right now I’d…” Josephine was circling around Cassie, punching and kicking as if she were fighting Klem at that very moment. Her dungarees nearly tripped her, and she tottered for balance. “Break his nose and tar and feather his mangy, ugly, smelly hide. He’s no good! No good, ya hear!”

Cassie glanced at the stranger standing silently in the doorway. His brows were raised and his lips tipped up in amusement. Josephine, with arms still flailing dramatically, jabbed at their cat, Ashes, who was crouched on an overstuffed parlor chair. She missed the startled animal’s nose by a half inch. The cat leaped from her perch, scrabbled on the hardwood floor, and disappeared into the other room.

Cassie bristled at the stranger’s amusement. Josephine’s passionate show of love and protection was sweet. Poor thing must’ve snuck from under the bed and watched Klem’s vicious attack from the window. She wished she could comfort her little sister, understanding that fear was her motivation, not bravado. But she didn’t dare; it might give them away.

“Just settle down,” she said, her voice harsh from pain and apprehension. “It’s barely even a bloody nose.”

Josephine froze at the curt, unfamiliar command. Her confused expression said it all. She backed away, perplexed.

Cassie didn’t have time at the moment to worry about Josephine’s hurt feelings. She’d promised their mama just moments before she’d died that she’d watch over Josephine, take good care of her, never leave her. She had to be smart and strict.

She limped into the kitchen and over to the sink, working the pump handle until water gushed forth. Catching some with her trembling hands, she held it to her face, turning the water red. Oh, it felt wonderfully good. And cool.

The cowboy stepped forward, reaffirming his presence. “Where is everybody?” he asked, glancing out the kitchen door into the parlor where the hall led to several guest rooms. “Seems pretty deserted around here.”

“Most everyone’s gone.” Cassie held a dishtowel to her face gingerly, not caring if it stained. She applied light pressure under her nose as she hobbled to a chair and sat. “Just a few people left besides us and the Shermans.”

“Klem Sherman was the one doing the fightin’. His big brother Bristol is bad too,” Josephine said, standing close beside her chair.

He smiled at Josephine, this time a real smile, bringing lightness to his face. His eyes narrowed with pleasure and his face took on a whole different look. Inviting.

Even at her tender age, Josephine, turning shy, ducked her head at his attention, an obviously feminine response to a handsome man.

“Who is this young lad?” he asked Cassie with a nod toward her little sister.

Was he blind
?

Even with short, ragged hair, her diminutive form encased in well-worn dungarees and grime smeared on her face, Josephine was the epitome of little-girl sweetness.

“My brother, Joey,” came her dumbfounded reply. “And I’m Cassidy. Cassidy Angel.”

At the name, the man straightened. It was obvious to Cassie he was pondering his next move, as sure as Ashes mused which end of a mole hole to watch.

He extended his hand to her. “Nice to make your acquaintance, Cassidy,” he said, as she took his hand firmly in her own. “And you too, Joe.” He looked from one to the other, his face softening even more as he shook his head in astonished disbelief. “I’m Sam Ridgeway. Any chance you’re related to Arvid Angel?”

Cassie’s instincts flashed on high alert. Was Uncle Arvid is some sort of trouble? He’d been here week before last, but she hadn’t seen him since. That didn’t mean he wouldn’t show up tomorrow.

Still dazed from the fight, Cassie couldn’t decide if it would be better to acknowledge their relationship or keep quiet.

“Arvid’s our uncle,” Josephine announced in her gravelly little girl’s voice. Now that she wasn’t shadowboxing the cat, her speech was back to normal, the likeness to stones rolling around on sand paper. Brightness flashed back into her blue eyes at being able to help. She blushed.

“Your uncle?” A single-minded grin spread across his face. “I’ve been looking for him. He around?”

Cassie gave Josephine a no-nonsense glare, promising swift punishment if she said another word. “No, mister, he’s gone. We haven’t seen him for some time.”

Sam Ridgeway came forward and pulled out a chair, making himself comfortable. Resting his elbows on his thighs, he leaned forward and looked at Cassie intently, his hat dangling in his fingertips. “I’ve been trying to hook back up with him for a few weeks now. You sure he didn’t say where he was headed?”

Cassie shrugged. “Can’t help you.”

He regarded her closely for a moment. “Town’s quiet. Where did everyone go?”

He was giving up too easy, making her more suspicious than ever. She dabbed at her nose with the cotton cloth in her hand, thinking.

“The Lucky North, that’s the mine that kept this town alive, closed up three months ago,” she mumbled through a sore jaw. With trembling fingers, she felt around her puffy nose. “Since the vein went dry, people have been leaving here, thirty to forty a week. For the past two days I’ve only seen a handful of townsfolk. No more stagecoach either.” She stood and went back to the sink, rinsing out the towel.

“What about your ma and pa?”

“Our ma died a few months back,” she replied, shoving the memories aside. “The doctor thought it was typhoid fever. Our pa has been gone over a year.”

He studied her a moment longer. “How do you make your way?”

“Odd jobs. Most for Miss Hawthorne, the owner of this boarding house, before she packed up and left.”

“She let us live here, too,” Josephine added.

“If the town is all but dead, as you say, what’re you planning to do? Stay here alone?”

Josephine had quietly inched closer to Mr. Ridgeway, obviously curious about him. Cassie was fearful of what might pop out of her sister’s mouth next. Until she figured out their next move she couldn’t chance Josephine giving away too much information.

“Joey, go find Ashes. It wasn’t nice how badly you scared her.”

A cloud swept across Josephine’s face. She hurried out of the room calling the cat’s name.

“Didn’t want to talk in front of my little brother,” Cassie said. “Don’t want to worry him.”

Sam looked interested.

“We’re leaving, too. Tomorrow. To California. It’s a state now, you know.”

He nodded.

“We’re headed to the abundance of gold in the American River.” Cassie was surprised when Sam Ridgeway remained silent. His eyes narrowed infinitesimally.

“Won’t take but six months to make what a grown man does in a lifetime,” she added, a niggle of anxious energy sprouting within her as he continued to stare. “Then we’ll have enough funds to do anything we want.” Her voice caught. Her mother’s dream was to start a bakery and stay in one place forever. Irked with herself for getting emotional, she covered her face with the cloth and sat back, closing her eyes.

She wanted a reaction from him. A question. Something! “Me and Joey will start a bakery.”

Sam’s chuckle went straight to her heart. She tried to stay her temper.

“Everyone’s got to eat, don’t they, Mr. Ridgeway? Just cause we’re boys doesn’t mean we can’t cook! Our family recipe will make us famous and we won’t ever have to depend on anyone,” she said through the cloth. “All this from the nuggets we find.”

Usually any talk of gold made men crazy with excitement. They’d get wound up and while away the hours, night and day, drinking and carrying on about how they would be the next one to strike it rich, hit a bonanza, discover the mother of all veins. Certainly, the men in Broken Branch did.

The reality was quite the opposite: backbreaking, life-wrecking work that seldom paid off. Still, she and Josephine had little choice but to try, even if it was a dangerous idea. Especially for a little girl. Without family and with little money, their only option was to go forward and hope.

An inexplicable urge to chatter on gripped her.
Why the heck didn’t he say something
? Just like the dim-witted men she’d just been thinking about, she blurted, “Coloma. Ever heard of it?”

She removed the rag from her face and stared back at him, refusing to say another word until he responded.

For several heartbeats he sat quietly, dropping his gaze down to the hat dangling in his hands. Then, with a slow, deliberate movement, he set it crown side down on the tabletop and nodded.

“Sure I have. As a matter of fact, I’m headed there myself.”

Chapter Four

A
t last
! Sam couldn’t believe it. Cassidy and Joey had to have the deed to his claim on Sourdough Creek. There could be no other explanation why Arvid’s relatives would be headed to Coloma. Somehow they’d gotten it from the fraud. But—his conscience gave him pause as he looked into Cassidy’s surprised face. Could he live with himself afterward? Retrieving the claim back from Arvid—lying, thieving skunk that he was—was one thing, but now that he’d met his two nephews, who were so young and innocent, that was another thing entirely.

What the heck was he thinking? Of course he could! The claim was his. It wasn’t stealing to take back what rightfully belonged to him. Arvid Angel had lifted the claim from his saddlebag as he’d slept: stolen it outright after he’d won it from the Swede in a hand of seven-card stud. It was going to provide the money needed to start his ranch. Taking it back wasn’t going to bother his conscious one iota.